911
by Risa9559
Summary: What it means to forgive and accept so that the bitter feeling of regret may not arise. OC; inspired by the book Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Foer


9/11

In my second year of high school, Dad left us for the sake of another woman. When I asked him his reason, 'I'm sorry, I could not stand your mother any longer but I still love you, Laura,' was his only answer. I could no longer believe in his words. After all, he left his daughter that he 'love' behind with the woman that he 'could not stand'. Though he may still love me, all that I could feel for him is only spite and despise.

And so, mum starts to work again after being a housewife for so long. Now, she pays attention to her appearance more and her business-like attitude could only further irritate me. I know full well that it is not her fault and that I should not blame my father's capriciousness on her. I knew and I have heard, her child-like sobs in the middle of the night through closed doors but the thought to comfort her have never come to me. Dad's absence only deepens the ravine that has already existed between her and I. With quiet hostility, we live in that lonely house.

As of recently, a routine has been established. I arrive at home from school to the echo of the ticking clock in the hallway. I would get the mails and dump them on the dining table, open the fridge to grab a snack and would finally settle on the couch to eat my snack while watching the TV. I don't need dinner as I have eaten my fill of burgers on the way home, deliberately disregarding the hearty meal mum had set aside for my dinner in the fridge. In this fashion, I continue to live out my days without any intention to make peace as the passing time fuels my rage and spite for my family.

My world changed that day I saw a little wedding invitation on the mailbox. I can feel the rage bubbling inside me, threatening to bursts and overflow. Gripping the invitation tightly, I came close to ripping it but was interrupted by the entrance of the stranger who lives with me. Taking one look at my tears-stricken face, she notices the invitation that I hold. Hurriedly, I throw the invitation into the trash and left for my room whilst she shouted behind me to wait. With deaf ears, I refuse to acknowledge her.

She left for her work early this morning when the sun have yet fully risen and the pink-coloured sky still paints the vivid dark ebony sky. Today promises to be a beautiful day but looking back, in truth it was not so. I arrived home only to witness a surreal scene of terror, horror and despair in a large scale. The world is watching and is shrieking. The TV that I rely on to provide my existence with entertainment has stained my soul with the misery of the world as people jump from twenty-stories buildings and higher. Smoke and flame with falling debris cover the TV screen and I could also feel the heat from my tears. I choke back a silent scream as I spotted a familiar figure in the seventieth-floor window. With patience, she is folding paper planes and is flying them one by one. I know, the world must have watched her in disbelief but without a care, I raced to the scene, desperately trying to get a glimpse of her and perhaps if I'm lucky, to find her message in the little paper planes. But it was impossible to see her as the building crumbled, everyone gasped and many are hysterical as they collapse on the side road. In a moment's reckless distress, I moved the nearby rubbles in an effort to find the paper planes and found one. Only one sentence was written. _I Love You._

I went home covered in dirt, tears, scrapes and bruises. My filthy appearance could be the least of my worries. Once more, the frenzy voices of the TV echo throughout the room. The phone join in chorus as it rings non-stop and does not intend to stop. I answer the phone to hear another familiar voice and this time, his voice does not spark any feelings in me. I could only feel empty; the darkness is slowly swallowing me in and I have nowhere to run or anyone to cling to. I can only scoff at my stupidity and begrudging nature and I could only condemn myself for not saying the important words that needed to be said. Dad continues frantically to talk on the phone about the news, the urgency of the situation and questions about my welfare that I have little interest in neither hearing nor answering. Inhaling a big breath, I interrupted him. This time with firm determination, I will discard my pride and my stubborn nature so that it will not lead to more regrets. In a whisper, I said, 'Congratulations on your marriage. I love you.' With those final words, I can hear the building rumble and the line on the other end disconnected.


End file.
